Drops of Crimson
by Tuppence
Summary: Set several months after RFB II. Spike survived but it was Faye who left, when he returned. Months pass and when Faye comes in sight again, she's changed. What's happened and what kind of trouble is she in now? Will the remaining Beboppers get involved?RR
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I'm back with another multi-chaptered story. And this one has already run away from the original plan, and it's only the first chapter! I hope you enjoy it. Some of the scenes – at least the Spike-Faye interactions, have been strongly influenced by Cassandra's "Ain't Afraid to Die". The style of writing is entirely influenced by Georgette Heyer's awe-inspiring book, "The Masqueraders". The story was originally influenced by Slytherincess' "Adjudication" but it's taken on more of my original twist. Hope you guys enjoy it. (As always, I don't own Cowboy Bebop.)

**Drops of Crimson**

**Chapter I**

How fortunate she was standing at the window of her room in the seedy hotel. It allowed her to see the members of the police coming. Faith, she thought she was safe here for at least another three days. The rest would have been nice. She was tired of running. Running and hiding, it could not but get tiring. Her lips lifted slightly at the edges. So tiring but so exhilarating, nonetheless. In truth, life needed spice, and what better spice than that of running for one's life?

Her eyes scanned her rooms swiftly, taking note of all that belonged to her. Her belongings were but meagre, on this dangerous road she was treading. Most could be discarded; gun and ammunition could not, of course. And the picture of him, her husband. Damnation! The plans were to be altered now, of course. It was no longer safe to stay in this room, should the ISSP be coming for her; far better to assume they were than that they were not. It meant a swift change of plans. Alack, she would have to wait for a little longer before meeting her beloved.

The gun and the ammunition were grabbed. Green eyes turned swiftly towards the window. The ISSP members could still be seen – a good sign. It meant that she had some minutes yet to decide what to do. She walked out of the room, leaving some woolongs behind. Part of hiding meant that she had to pay for everything she used. She could no longer leave without paying – it made her far too conspicuous. She parted the money with little regret this time, however. The desire for a fight overpowered any dislike of parting with money unnecessarily.

There was a glitter in her eyes – a dangerous glitter that made her eyes sparkle. The smell of a fight was strong and it acted like a drug on her. She was in a corridor on the third floor. She turned towards the stairs. Stairs allowed greater freedom; greater freedom meant a greater chance of survival and so, the lift was rejected. But what to do? Did one go upstairs or downstairs? Her mind quickly assessed the options. If they arrived and found her room empty, they would assume she had left. Who would believe that she was just upstairs instead of running away? But if they did come upstairs, she would be trapped. She would fight – no reason why she wouldn't – but she would be easily overcome. If she went downstairs, they might see her as she left the place. There would be a fight but a fight that she might win.

Her lips twitched up on the left side; the half smile was the only outward sign of the exhilaration a prospective fight had released. Hiding was but part of the fun. Fighting to escape was the other part and, egad, there had been far too much hiding in the last few weeks.

There was a furrow in her brow as she moved towards the stairs. The only action she had participated in was when she had accidentally run into Jet. Lord, what were the chances of running into him? She had saved his life, shooting a man as he was about to shoot Jet. She had then had to shoot the other man too, because Jet had frozen stiff at the shock of seeing her. And then, he had started shouting abuse at her for killing his bounties.

She smiled a pleasant smile this time – one that was less dangerous and one she hadn't shown in a fair few days. She had smiled just so at Jet, his angry words sounding warm and comfortable in their familiarity. There were so many words left unsaid, when she had left without any warning. But those words had remained unspoken. Sirens had alerted her to the incoming presence of the ISSP, just as they had done now, and she had disappeared without a word. It seemed as though Jet had expected this. He had not remonstrated and he had not called after her. He had just watched her disappear into shadowed alleyways. She wondered if he had known that she had watched him from those shadows.

She hummed a happy tune in her head, and her feet moved to its beats as she stepped towards the stairs. A useful trick to make sure her steps sounded relaxed, preventing unwanted attention. She was at the foot of the steps now. Lord, how she wanted to pause to listen for the sounds of incoming ISSP officers. But the tune in her head played on and she moved to it, each step casual and light, past the second floor, past the first floor, and almost free now; almost.

She forced the tension from her muscles as she stepped lightly towards the door. Must do nothing to catch people's attentions – a hard feat for someone as stunning as her, of course. The door swung inwards and her muscles tensed despite her best efforts; nobody outside. She wondered where the ISSP officers were as the chirpy tune continued in her head. She turned left, towards where she had seen the officers. Lo and behold, there they still were, coming ever closer. Her legs continued to move towards them, a casual step and then another. She passed the dingy bar on her left, where a pair of dark eyes widened and followed her. She crossed the road to the other side and entered a cheerful café, the strong aroma of coffee dizzying her but for a few seconds.

The pair of dark eyes in the smoky bar continued to watch Faye, sitting with her back towards the street. Absentmindedly, he drank what little whiskey was left in his glass in one long gulp and banged it twice on the table, demanding a refill. Once his glass was filled again, he drank it, dropped money on the table and stood up with purpose. It had been months since he had last see her.

He shielded his eyes from the bright sunlight outside and crossed the road with slow, languid steps. As he entered the café, he noticed her hands stiffen around her cup of...coffee? Some things didn't change. He saw her looking at his approach through the corners of her eyes and he saw her lips compress into a thin line. She clearly wasn't his biggest fan still. He felt the twitches of the start of a smirk, and he let the smirk spread across his face. It really had been too long since he had seen her. Far too long.

He reached her table and turned the chair opposite Faye's around, saddling it as he looked at her with his smirk. "Hey." A stony silence was the reply. "Haven't seen you in a while, Faye. You've changed." He saw an expression of mixed hatred and anger stretch across her face. She definitely wasn't his biggest fan right now.

* * *

"What the _fuck _is _wrong _with _you_?" Faye yelled at Spike, her face flushed with anger.

"Wrong with _me_? What the fuck is wrong with _you_? What the hell were you doing?" Spike was just as angry as Faye and his voice illustrated it.

"I was getting the damn bounty if you hadn't killed him first. Why the hell were you there anyway?" The words reverberated around the hangar as Faye's nails dug into her palms, her fury making her oblivious to the pain.

"Great job at that, Faye!" Spike all but spat out her name, the venom in his voice causing Jet to cringe, standing in the doorway, ignored. "What were you going to do? Because from where I was standing, you were bruised and beaten up and three on one!"

Faye snarled. "I would've handled it, Spike. I don't need you to save me. Especially when we _always_ miss out on Bounties because you _always_ kill them!"

Jet had become somewhat accustomed to the habitual fights between Faye and Spike, but this one felt different, and he accordingly pushed Ed out of the room. Before he could speak, Spike spoke again.

"Better than you, Faye. All you do is look like a slut, try and distract the guys but end up getting beaten up. You're useless Faye. _That's_ why I always have to save you – because you _always _need saving!"

Faye moved forward, tensing her arms in preparation to hitting him. With visible effort, she restrained herself. "I _don't_ need saving, Spike. _Nobody_ here needs saving. If we need any saving, we need saving from _you_! You're nothing but trouble. You bring us hell and then you go and create _more fucking hell_! What the _fuck_ is wrong with _you_?" Each word became louder and her last words were a scream.

"You're such a drama queen, Faye. If you put this much effort into catching bounties, you might actually catch one, one of these days." Spike casually turned away from the cry of rage that erupted from Faye. With practised nonchalance, he moved towards the exit, ignoring the blood that was dripping down his arm from the bullet wound on his right shoulder. He paused and spoke again, this time in a thoughtful voice. "And Faye, if that's your _pathetic_ attempt at catching my attention, it's not working. I'm not interested in you and I'm _never_ going to be interested in you, so stop being such a fucking _bitch_!"

There was a moment of stunned silence. And then..."DON'T WALK AWAY SPIKE! Don't you _dare_ walk away, Spike! You piece of shit. How the _fuck_ dare you - "

"FUCK OFF FAYE!" Spike finally reached his limit as he spun around to face Faye, his face a mixture of anger and disdain. "Has it occurred to you that we've _never_ asked you to stay with us? Has it _occurred _to you that all we EVER _fucking _do is save your cheap ass because _you _can't do it yourself. I got shot in the fucking shoulder _again_ because _you_ couldn't handle an easy bounty. You bitch about _me_, Faye, but you're useless. You're _worse_ than useless because we've _never_ wanted you here and we still _don't_ want you here but you just can't take the damn hint, can you? We don't _like _you. We _fucking hate _you have the time. So why don't you do everyone here a favour and get out and leave us the fuck alone." Opposite to Faye, Spike's words had been quiet, each word especially weighed for maximum impact, and by the end of it, Faye was white in the face and shaking. She managed to take a step forward, her hands trembling, but suddenly, she spun around and moved to her battered Redtail. She got in, switched the engine on and flew away without a glance back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Drops of Crimson**

**Chapter II**

He watched Faye closely, and when he got no reply, he exaggeratedly stretched his arms and linked his hands behind his head; a very familiar mannerism. "Aw, Faye. Don't look so happy to see me." He allowed his smirk to turn into a silly smile.

"What are you doing here?" Her lips had barely moved and the words had been a whisper, but he had found no difficulty in hearing her. His posture remained relaxed but his eyes became alert. The venom in her voice had been unmistakeable.

"Just ordering breakfast." He yawned, for added effect, and denied the relief he felt as he saw the anger and hatred turn into momentary confusion. A buxom blonde waitress arrived, as if on cue, her blue eyes looking invitingly at Spike. "Could I have a full breakfast? Bacon, eggs, toast, sausages; I want everything." He flashed her a charming smile he reserved only for people he didn't care about and she responded like he knew she would, blushing a little, flirting a little and hopefully getting him some extra food free of charge. He turned back to Faye to see her staring angrily at him again. He wondered if she had specifically chosen to blink in the short period of time he had looked away from her, purposely trying to weird him out – because it was creepy as hell being glared at by a woman who was trigger-happy and seemingly not requiring to blink. "Thanks for paying for my breakfast." He said, with a smirk. He was rewarded by a return of the confused look Faye wore – eyebrows frowning a little, mouth open into a minuscule 'o' and head tilted the slightest bit to her left. It was a pleasing sight after the death glare she had been focussing on him.

"So, how've you been?" He asked her, with more curiosity than he would have admitted. He caught her looking out of the corner of her eye, at the front door of the café, as she looked down into her full cup of steaming coffee. He hid his surprise well when he saw her not bring the cup of coffee to her lips. "Cat got your tongue?" He added provocatively.

"What are you _doing_ here, Spike? Why are you here?" She demanded again, glancing to the door and back at her coffee. Escaping from trouble again, Spike noted. The carefully hidden glances to the door were evidence of being on guard.

"It's because I missed you." He replied, conversationally. "Mind if I have some coffee?" He leaned out a hand to grab the mug but wasn't surprised when she grabbed it and moved it out of his reach. He _was _surprised that she didn't shout at him, though. Had she really changed this much? He watched her cautiously place the cup of coffee on the table, untouched, watching him closely. She was far more confusing than usual, and as always, he chose to voice the first thoughts that came to his mind. "Why aren't you drinking coffee?"

Was that a blush on her cheeks? It was too faint and she had her back towards the sunlight entering through the café windows to tell, but she replied airily enough. "Maybe I'm not in the mood for drinking it?"

"Then why did you order it?" Spike sensed a mystery and he loved to probe mysteries and find the answers. He noticed her hesitation before her answer.

"I like the smell." A careless shrug of her shoulders and that was her entire response, and it was unsatisfactory, to say the least. Although it could be true, he admitted.

"And that's why you chose to sit in a lovely, sunny café all by yourself?" He had forgotten how fun it was to interrogate Faye to get the smallest, most pointless details of mundane activities from her. She never failed to get riled up, until today, it seemed. Her lips tightened into a thin, straight line and there was a deep frown on her face as she looked at him thoughtfully.

"Yeah, that's why I'm here." Her tone was light but her expression remained inconceivable to Spike and he suspected her of satire.

"And that's why you're in this wonderful city?" He asked drily; his eyes looked beyond her into the dismal, rundown area outside the window but he was still aware of Faye stiffening up. Although he had suspected some hidden agenda on Faye's part, it seemed like it might be more serious than he had suspected. He drew some further, fairly accurate conclusions when he saw her fingers tighten around the cup of still steaming coffee as members of the ISSP loudly walked past the window. Any further questions he had were forgotten as the flirtatious blonde returned. She leaned close by Spike, placing a plate brimming with food (more than he had ordered, for certain), but he was oblivious to her warm breath on his cheeks, his eyes dilating at the quantity of food. He had forgotten how hungry he was and the smell of protein – non-vegetarian protein – was one to be cherished. For the next five minutes, the only sounds emanating from their tables was the sound of Spike stuffing his mouth full of the food in astonishing time. Faye continued to stare at him, a constant mixture of hatred and anger, and, adding variety, there was sometimes disgust. Burping once he was done, he leaned back in the chair, watching Faye as she continued to glare at him. With an abrupt change of topic, and an equally abrupt change of tone to match, he said accusingly, "You didn't call or tell us anything about where you were."

She blinked in surprise. Her attention had been wondering back to the streets outside, alert for the sound of any ISSP officers, but at this, she once again focussed on Spike. "I don't owe you shit, Spike." Her voice was quiet but vibrant with resentment.

"You don't owe me shit but you owe _Jet_, Faye. What the fuck did he do to you to deserve that?" His tone was harsh and more than a little cruel.

Again, she blinked in surprise but she remained silent this time. She didn't have an answer, it seemed, but she did seem troubled. For the first time since Spike had found her, there was a hint of guilt and concern on her face and it gave him a sort of sadistic satisfaction. He pushed further with this. "_Jet's_ been worried shit about you ever since you left. We waited around for ages, expecting you to return, the way you _always _do. Do you know what you put him through?" He was surprised to see her expression alter by a smug sneer.

"How worried has Jet been the last 3 months Spike? Just how worried has he been?"

Matching her sneer with one of his own, Spike replied without hesitation. "Worried sick, Faye. You wouldn't recognise him if you saw him."

"That's strange because he sure as hell recognised me when I saw him all those three months ago."

Spike's eyes narrowed with an incomprehensible gleam. When he spoke, his voice was dangerously quiet. "Jet saw you three months ago? Well, clearly he thinks you can't look after yourself, so he's kept on worrying about you." He saw a flash of anger in Faye's face with satisfaction.

She replied through gritted teeth, "Well, now that you've seen me, I'm sure you can reassure him. I'm clearly _quite_ capable of surviving by myself." She turned her face quickly to the left, as the café entrance opened. Three pretty girls came in as Faye forced her muscles to reluctantly relax, before turning back to face Spike.

"You were saying?" He replied in a feigned dulcet tone. Seeing Faye facing him stonily once more, he opened his mouth to speak, only to instead heave a sigh, tinged with tiredness, frustration and some emotions neither one of them could quite name. "Faye, we expected you to return." His words held sincerity they normally lacked and it was disconcerting for both. He rubbed his eyes distractedly, in another familiar mannerism. "We really expected you to return to us." He said without looking.

She looked at him for a moment before sighing too, but hers was more of relief. "So did I," She admitted sotto voce. Spike looked up to see her face transformed. Her eyes were staring through him, beyond him, and a smile trembled on her lips. It was a smile that he had never seen before on Faye, one that seemed radiant beyond belief. It reached her eyes the way her smiles before never had, warming them. Her face seemed to glow from the inside out and it caused his throat to constrict. He looked away; it was too painful to keep his eyes on this new Faye that he didn't recognise and he didn't know.

* * *

She trembled. Lord, how she trembled. Her Redtail had not landed gently but it was not her injuries or the bumpy ride that was the cause of this. She knew she trembled because of Spike. The words had stung. They had stung all the worse for the truth underlying it. It was one verbal slap after another and here she now was, trembling and trembling and trembling. She would tremble no more.

With this in mind, she stepped away from the Redtail only to lean into it again at once, her legs too weak to support her. Leaning her back against the ship, she slid down to her feet, twisting her arms around her bent knees in an attempt to subdue the trembling, but to no avail. What, was she to play the hurt little child? A thousand times no, and with this resolve, she once again stood up, this time far more successfully.

The adrenalin was fading within her bloodstream and it steadied her trembling enough for her to take faltering steps away from it. Devil take him, he had reduced her to a shaking girl, physically feeling sick from that argument. But she had known it was brewing. She had felt it brewing since he had returned, alive and angry. There had been that look in him that said he was angry. At whom, why, what for? None of those questions mattered. He had chosen her as the scapegoat and had unleashed his fury on her time and again. He had always managed to hold himself back from crossing that indefinable line but this time, it seemed, he had lost all control. If she was fair, she would admit that she had lost all control too, but she wasn't fair. Not right now! Not when it hurt to breathe and the temptation to throw up was overwhelming. Her vision wavered – was it her vision or was it herself that was wavering? It didn't matter. Her faltering steps continued, one after another, going down one shadowy road to another dank lane. Lud, she would be lost soon. But was she not already a little lost? Again, it didn't matter. Few things mattered, really.

The dark alleys swam into one another, becoming a soothing wave of comforting darkness as her faltering steps gradually faltered less. She had been there too long and this was her chance to escape, so she stepped one foot after another, everything blurring into a gentle nothingness until, after lord knows how long, she stepped into another dimly lit alley where a car was parked.

The doors opened as she approached it, two nondescript men stepping out. Black suits, black ties, white shirts, they looked like they could have been James Bond if they had a personality. She approached them, feeling no fear...feeling...nothing, if truth was told - the surreal feeling of omnipotence surging through her. What could these men do, after all?

She crept closer to them, trying to decipher their conversation as they muttered to each other under their breaths. If she squinted really hard, she thought she could imagine those incomprehensible words take a physical form, floating from one set of lips to another. A moment later, she realised they must have been talking about her as she suddenly noticed the looks thrown surreptitiously at her and she chuckled a bitter chuckle. It reminded her of Jet and Spike a bit, but that was in the past now, she told herself firmly; ancient history, along with her broken house in Singapore and Whitney.

"You're hurt!" There was a surprised exclamation from one of them – she decided he looked more like a Harry really. He wasn't a James Bond at all, definitely more of a common Harry. It took her a moment longer, as she found herself still moving towards them, to realise that they were talking about her. Lud, how had she had forgotten all about the bounty-hunt-gone-awry? They had both moved towards her but that feeling of power and omnipotence remained. She returned their looks with her own, critically assessing them with her lips quivering on a smile the whole time.

The 'Harry' went back towards the car and flung the door open wider. She walked towards him, looking into the car curiously, wondering what was in there. She never wondered if there was a 'who' in there.

"Get in quickly." 'Harry spoke her abruptly and she found her legs moving into the car of their own accord. The other man sat in next, as she moved to the left seat so that they could both fit. He gave an unimpressed sniff and Faye decided he was more of a Ronald. A pompous, snobby Ronald with shifty eyes, certainly. 'Harry' sat in the car, shut the door, and the car began to move, the scenes out of the window passing by like a psychedelic painting and, lord, it was a relief to get away from the Bebop. Such a relief.

* * *

**Author's note:** Ok, so this chapter was a lot longer, and it was more establishing the current kind of relationship that Spike and Faye have really. So I hope it wasn't too boring. How was the second bit of the story too - the historical sounding bit? I found it harder to write this one – not sure why, but I hope it works anyway. Not sure if you guys got it, but the Harry and Ronald characters are a little nod towards Harry Potter. I'll make some more nods to other fictional (and some non-fictional) characters in the story. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. It took me ages to finish, partially because of revision but also because I found some bits hard to write. I hope it doesn't show. Please review to let me know what you think.


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